I am not fond of the cemetery, I have to admit.

My ancestor owns a house on Long Island. I really love this place as it's not as populated as others. I could spend hours standing near the lake, looking over the horizon.

My grandma lived in this house till her death. My mom said she lived alone, all by herself when my uncle decided to shift to Italy with his new girlfriend. 

Although mom didn’t like it and always advised grandma to come and stay with us. But somehow Grandma always liked the place. She was attached to this place to such an extent that she lived there since childhood and never went across the borders. 

What bothers me is the cemetery that is just behind the house. That creeps me even more because I can look directly to the cemetery through my bedroom window. 

When we were young, we used to spend our summer vacation on Long Island. The house is really big but very old. Even older than my grandma. It hasn’t been painted for many years. There are some old broken statues in the backyard and a small pool that has never been filled since I first saw it.

Old. Pathetic. Broken.

That’s how I feel when my mom forces me to come visit the place.

“Your grandma will love it. She cannot come to visit us to Brookly. So we have to go to her place to visit.”

I tried everything that my best friend taught me. Crying, shouting and requesting. But nothing works. I was still forced to spend some time in the place which creeped me out.

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I always requested my mom to at least change my bedroom and let me sleep somewhere else but she refused to do so. It's not that there are no rooms here. There is one room right at the end of the second floor. No lights there. Grandma refuses to fix it.

She says, “It makes me feel safe when the lights are out. I won’t see them and they won't see me.”

I used to ask who “They” are but my mom thinks it's because she is old and living alone. Not much of a deal.

I think my mom didn't realize at that time that it was really a big deal. That's the first sign of either being psycho or something related to the supernatural.

My mom is a lawyer. She doesn’t believe in anything like that but my grandma believes in them all. 

My neighbor, Miss Masuki said she used to watch my grandma making her way to the cemetery every night. She used to stand there, looking right at the cemetery. She would talk hours to someone unseen.

At first Miss Masuki thought she was paranoid. She would stand there for hours and talk and laugh and cry, all at the same time. When it reached 2 am, she would slowly walk back to the house and shut the door so hard that the sound would vibrate throughout the neighbourhood.

Poor Miss Masuki. She has been getting nightmares since the first time she saw this.

I don’t know what it was and who was in the cemetery but one thing is sure that I am not going back to the house. I know it has memories of my grandma but still I won’t.

My mom decided to sell our house to the real estate owner before someone spreads a rumor that the house is haunted. The house is still not sold yet but she is dreaming of having a house in the Caribbean with that money.

I have never heard any noises at night or seen any shadows climbing the walls but the way my grandma’s life slowly degraded in that house, I think I am good by not knowing  the reality.

But as we know, life doesn’t always turn out the way we wanted. 

Maybe the time has come to know the truth about the house, the cemetery and also the man that my grandma talked about a few days before her death.